


When I was like a bird...

by connyinthemaze



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Berlin - Freeform, East - west germany, Historical AU, I'm Sorry, M/M, Multi, Newt is my baby, Rebels, Socialism, Tagtag, Violence, maybe smut idk, not good at tagging, so are minho and Thomas, takes place in germany, this is ridiculous actually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2642972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connyinthemaze/pseuds/connyinthemaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>East Germany, the 60s<br/>Newt, Thomas and Minho are part of a resistance movement. Newt is in love with Tommy. They get busted by a Stasi- spy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_East Germany, 1962_

 

 

„Your Papers, young man.! Newt hadn’t seen the policeman. He snapped back into reality and looked at the man in the uniform with a steadfast gaze. The Policeman rolled his eyes „Your Papers.“ „Yeah“ Newt stated „Yeah right, of course.“ He reached to the back pocket of his jeans to pull out his ID. The VoPo looked at it carefully and finally, with an unnerved look on his face, handed it back to Newt, who took it and put it back into his pocket. Newt was about to visit his friend Minho, and since they didn’t live far from each other and the weather was nice that day, he had decided to walk the way. The sun was shining and Newt was in a good mood as he stepped through the door of the industrialized building Minho was living in.

He jumped up the stairs, he didn’t mind that he had to go all the way up to the 6th floor, and when he arrived, he knocked on the door that said Minho Park. Said door opened and Minhos face appeared with a wide grin on it. ‘Hey there, Newt. Come in, shank, and make yourself comfortable, I’ll just be finishing this stuff I’m doing.’ ‘Hey, Minho. No problem, I got lots of time t hand, no Uni today. What about you?’ Newt asked as he stepped into the small apartment and took off his shoes. Minhos voice sounded to him from the kitchen ‘Nah, me neither. Well, actually yes, but I can live with not going to uni today – for your sake.’ Newt smiled and said ‘Thank you, you’re so attentive’ in a sarcastic voice as he sat down on the kitchen table and lit a cigarette. He took a drag of blue smoke and asked: ‘So, what’s the plan for tonight?’ Minho looked up from his work and showed a bright smile. ‘You know this downstairs room in Honecker Street? There’s going to be a concert tonight, Griever Combo is playing as well as a balladeer from the west. Entrance is free!’ Newt nodded and ran a hand through his blonde, shoulder-length hair as he took another drag from his cigarette. ‘Sounds good. When is it going to start?’ ‘Seven, as far as I know. Thomas is gonna drop by at five so we can have one or two drinks. He’s at Uni until five, unlike me he doesn’t skip civics. Know your enemy or something like that.’ Minho said, facing his notes again.

Newt let out a sigh. Their friend Thomas held belief that he had to take as many university classes as possible, to look like a good socialist – probably to not attract any attention. That was because he, as well as Minho, Newt and a few others, was part of a (most likely very illegal) students association called ‘The Gladers’. The members met regularly to discuss and exchange their views, some of them wrote texts and essays and some others made music that were critical to the political system. They all had one thing in common, which was the disagreement upon the German Democratic Republic’s regime. Newt had joined them one and a half year ago, when he came to Berlin to study English. He had never been one for socialism, not the way Honecker and all the other statesmen had obviously misconceived it. He hated to be held prisoner here. He hated to be refused so many things – travelling, access to genuine information and, ahead of everything else: an advanced opinion and the right to say and think whatever he wanted. This was not fair, was not okay and he had to do anything about it. Back when he had lived with his parents in Rostock, he had mentioned these feelings once. This had brought him some well-aimed hits and a probably life-long quarrel with his father, who had been head of the socialist party SED. As always, his mother had just stood by and cried, and he watched his tongue from that day on, at least when his parents were around.

His string of thoughts got interrupted by Minho, who put down his pen with a loud bang and, in a relieved voice, said: ‘Finally did it. Those shucking calculations are gonna kill me one day.’ Newt smiled, he knew that this was clearly not the case. Minho was damn smart – but also damn lazy. ‘Shut your bloody trap, shank. You are good at everything anyway.’ Newt said. ‘Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m complaining – I feel unchallenged.’ His friend answered, and Newt rolled his eyes. ‘You’re not in love with yourself at all, mate.’ Minho showed a shit-eating grin. ‘I’m not. I just know that I’m better than all of you shanks.’ Newt glared at him, but the corners of his mouth moved upwards: He knew that, when Minho said things like this, he wasn’t serious – at least not completely. By now, it was four o’ clock and they decided to cook something until Thomas would arrive. When they had finished their meal consisting of noodle soup and pickles, there was a knock on the door and Newt went to open it.

Thomas smiled at him, standing in the doorframe, his university supplies still in a book bag. ‘Hey there, Newt.’ He said and they shook hands. The hairs in Newts neck rose and he felt a strange warmth flooding through his body. He had had a crush on the tall boy for some time now, his dark hair and bright smile always made Newts heart skip a few beats. He stepped out of the doorframe to let Thomas in, who went straight into the kitchen to say hello to Minho and Newt followed feeling a bit dizzy. The effect Thomas had on him had not faded over the year they had been friends by now, on the contrary – it seemed to get worse every time, and even more intense. But Newt did not get his hopes up. He wiped the thought out of his mind and joined the other two men on the kitchen table to have one of the shots Minho had poured in foresight.

 

Two hours and half a bottle of corn schnapps later they were making their way to Honecker Street. Minho was talking all the way there, about one of his lecturers who apparently had a really impressive bust measurement and Thomas shot him disapproving looks, since he was a convinced feminist. The usual stream of people on Berlin’s streets made the city pulse in its unique way. At the time they arrived at the location, there were already a few people standing outside, waiting to be obtained entry. They joined the group of waiting people and lit another cigarette each. ‘…and the other day, in this wide meshed crochet dress, and I’m telling you, you could see everything! Shucking awesome!’ Newt rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, Minho, we got it. She’s got boobs. Could we please change the topic now and bloody talk about something different?’ Minho looked at Newt with his usual grin and gently punched his shoulder. ‘Yeah, ok Newt. Let’s talk about your hot female lecturers. Newt rolled his eyes once again, a gesture he very often used in Minhos presence, and shot a glance at Thomas as if he wanted to say For fucks bloody sake, make him stop. Thomas gave him his charming smile and Newt got all dizzy again – he wanted to blame the alcohol he had drunk before. He tried. But, deep inside he knew that the liquor was not to blame – he was crazy over Thomas and it was actually pointless to claim anything else. He looked down at the pavement and let out a quiet sigh. The other two were now talking about Russian politics – Newt hadn’t even noticed the change of topic. Pull yourself together, you’re 23 years old for gods sake, he told himself. Finally, the doors opened and the people outside started to push inside the building. When Newt began to move forward, he felt something touching his right hand and a finger that locked with his own. He turned his head around and saw Thomas, who smiled at him warmly. He was glad they already were inside, where the light was dimmed, so Thomas couldn’t see Newt’s face, which had flushed bright red.


	2. Like Alice, only without the glitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The concert. A little indication of Newt's backstory. Chuck. More Newtmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to upload, but I have a bunch of stuff to do at the moment and translating took it's time. But now, here's the second chapter! It's all a bit boring, but there's more action yet to come.   
> Something that might be of interest:   
> When you read the word WESSI, it means people from west germany back then. OSSI means people from the east.  
> Enjoy!

An hour had passed since they entered the location, and the air was thick with smoke and moisture already. The band had begun to play, critical lyrics wrapped up in pretty metaphors. Newt like the music, the rough voice of the vocalist made him think of old days. He stood further back in the crowd, listening, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other one.

 

_A maze, no escape_

_Captured and scared_

_Like Alice, only without the glitter_

_We are here, we can’t run off_

A cynical smile formed on his face as he once again realized the truth in lyrics like this.

 

_And you think and you believe_

_That everything is going to change_

_Then you feel the sting_

_That takes your life_

_And sets you free_

There it was. The critique of the shoot-to-kill orders in the border zones, the painful reminder why Newt was actually trying to get out of here, why he took the risk of going to jail, why he attended the Gladers’ meetings regularly.

The memory still hurt, after all this years, and all the inner fights he had fought, it did still hurt to think of Alby. Alby, his strong, tall boyfriend who had meant more to Newt than anyone ever did.

Newt shook his head to kill off the thoughts. _You’re here for the music, stop being sad. Plus, Tommy held your hand, that’s a reason to cheer the hell up._

He got distracted, by hands that covered his eyes and a voice chirping ‘Hey Blondie’. He turned, his eyes playfully filled with anger, but a smile on his lips. ‘Hello, Teresa. Have you been here all night already?’ he asked while hugging the young woman. Teresa was Tommy’s sister, obviously, because like him she was tall, with dark hair and a friendly smile. ‘Naah, just came here. I’m accompanied tonight by the way, by my favorite freshman. Do you know Chuck?’ Newt shook his head. It was really loud in the downstairs room and he had difficulty understanding Teresa, so he brought his mouth closer to her ear and asked ‘Would you like to have a smoke outside? Ya know, air and stuff.’ Teresa nodded in agreement and moved towards the exit.

There weren’t many people outside, even though some smokers stood in little groups, painting the air with spirals of blue smoke, and others had claimed the places next to the doors to snog.

‘So Newt, this is Chuck. Freshman for Biology, Russian and English – actually, what’s the matter with English students and their silly nicknames?’ Chuck was still a boy, nineteen years at the most, with red cheeks and a chubby face, eyes glistening with mischief. As he spoke, he did so with a thick Saxonian accent: ‘For real, Teresa. If your name was Charles Charles, you would prefer having a nickname as well.’ Newt cocked his eyebrows. ‘Charles as first and last name? Why would your parents want to torture you?’ Chuck laughed and said: ‘Well, my mother had a divorce from my father, and married another man – whose surname was, unfortunately, Charles. So I became Chuck. What did the world do to you that you had to call yourself Newt?’

Newt smiled at the boy, he liked him. ‘My last name is Isaak, like in Isaac Newton. Just kind of came along, you know.’

‘Good to know! I never had the courage to ask!’ Newt heard Thomas’ voice behind him and his heart skipped a beat. ‘I thought there was some kind of tragic backstory behind your name, that you don’t ever wanna talk about’ Minho, who had stepped out of the door behind Thomas, stated. ‘You are so considerate towards my feelings.’ Newt said and rolled his eyes. Then Teresa spoke with a low voice: ‘Hey, uhm, actually I wanted to ask you something. Chuck here expressed certain… ambitions to meet us on Thursday night – any objections?’

Thursday night was the night the Gladers used to meet. Newt thought about it, and he didn’t see any problems, the boy seemed like a nice guy and there was something in his eyes that made Newt suppose he would fight for his believes. Of course, there was always someone who actually had objections. ‘Teresa, you _told_ him?! Are you insane?’ Minho exclaimed. Thomas placed a hand on his friends shoulder and said, with a calming voice ‘Minho, calm the shuck down. It’ll be okay, besides, no one ever complained when you and Newt brought me and Teresa in. ‘ Minho grumpily stared at his feet. Chuck looked a little offended and finally said ‘Man, that’s klunk. You come to Berlin, hoping you can change the world, and are instantly called a liar.’

Minho opened his mouth to reply, but Newt cut him short. ‘Nobody’s calling you a liar. If I have any say in this, you can join us. But you have to be aware of the risk you’re taking – you could lose your place at university if someone finds out.’ _Or worse._ Nevertheless, Chucks face lit up and Minho grumbled some offended words to nobody. Now it was Newt’s turn to pat the tall Asian’s back and smile at him warmly. But Minho only said ‘Let go, shank. No way your _cutie-blondie_ is gonna work here.’ Now, Thomas decided to say something: ‘Come on, Minho. Boy’s nice, and you’re only being a bitch now because Newt cut you off so perfectly.’

Minhos face showed indignation as he objected: ‘That’s not rue! I just think that… hey! Listen to me!’

But they couldn’t listen, because Thomas, as well as Newt, had started laughing with all their heart. Thomas had looked at Newt with a grimace, so similar to Minho’s indignant face, that Newt couldn’t contain himself. Minho didn’t seem to see anything funny about all of that. ‘Hey, you shanks! Stop laughing at me!’ His attempts stayed as such, Newt could barely breathe and Thomas had put his hand to his stomach as if he felt pain there. Minho looked at them, as if they had both gone mad. ‘You guys are nuts.’ He said, but he obviously tried to hide a smile.

Newt had calmed down in the meantime, and now found himself stuck looking at Thomas’ face, and finding himself once more surprised, how good looking that boy was. His smile shined bright like the sun, and in his dark eyes there were tears of laughter glistening. He would have loved to go to him, run a hand through his hair and…

_Boy, calm down._

Thomas was able to breathe again and slightly punched Minhos upper arm, the smile still in his face. ‘Come on, guys. Let’s go inside. Don’t wanna miss that Wessi singing!’

Doing as he had said, they were back down in the crowded cellar room,one minute later. Thomas was standing next to Newt, and dreamy-eyed looked at nothing particular. Newt had to force himself not to stare.

Then the crowd started cheering, as a middle-aged man, dressed in jeans and equipped with a guitar and mouthorgan stepped onto the stage and introduced himself as Jorge.

He started playing. Newt had this feeling that Thomas had shot him a side-glance again.

_Get your shit together, man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you liked it. Let me know if there were any grammar/spelling mistakes, I'm apologizing for the wrong use of tenses as well.   
> Leave comments, Kudos and all the stuff.  
> I love you!

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo now, this is it. I hope you liked it, feel free to tell me if you found spelling mistakes or sth like that - I'm doing some weird shit when I'm translating sometimes. 
> 
> Also comment, leave kudos etc and tell me if you'd like to read more.  
> I love you all!


End file.
